


He's Slipping

by LemonkMeringuePie



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Ballroom Dancing, Blackwatch Era, Homophobia, Hugs, I think? We'll see how I can draw it out, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Self-Indulgent, Slow Burn, Slow Dancing, but more implied than anything, hand holding, if you're lucky, probably, these tags are partially eventually, you expect me to know lore?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:35:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25444759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonkMeringuePie/pseuds/LemonkMeringuePie
Summary: Hanzo is getting married probably, and its fine because he never wanted a love marriage anyway, he's fine. Maybe he's not fine. And maybe a handsome stranger arriving at his ball will prove that to him.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	1. Slippery Shoes

**Author's Note:**

> Quick preface: this is my first work. I am very ashamed of having interests and hobbies & wouldn't even admit to it so I will be writing things in one sitting and then posting them. There will probably be heaps of errors and things I would like to do better (maybe I'll edit?? You can do that, right?). I already lost a copy of the intro and stuff. But we persevere! I'm not super familiar on Japanese nor American culture so if I say anything offensive/incorrect please let me know and I'll edit it when I see it. Same goes for any other problematic things I may unintentionally do but also please be nice! I am tentative to say the least. Also pants means trousers/slacks where I'm from.

With a sharp, jarring pain in his wrist, Hanzo's palm meets the polished marble tile leaving his face inches from the bathroom floor, close enough to smell the disinfectant. These damned, slippery clown shoes. Grabbing rim of the sink, he carefully rights himself, shaking out the pain in his wrist. He cannot afford to break a wrist in a just because he's wearing the "correct" attire for a ridiculous ball. The formal shoes don't have any grip so he won't... scuff the floor? _That_ doesn't sound right. He draws together his dark eyebrows in contemplation. Surely he is worth more than the floor he treads upon?

He lifts one leg up onto the sink in front of the mirror. Pulling up the bottom of his pantleg he unsheathes the knife he has strapped there. The blade glistens in the cool light. Perfect. He drags the knife along the outsoles of the brown leather shoes scoring them until they look like a chess board. Much better. He grins at himself in the mirror. Some strands of his dark hair have come untied. And he should do something about those bags, maybe just a little bit of Genji's concealer will touch that up. Hmmmmm. He strides out of the bathroom.

"I'm done Genji!" the long corridor echoing his words. This mansion was a bit of a frivelous expense in his mind. He appreciates that it's to be a grand event and all but could they not just rent a hall? Their not even getting married yet, hell they're just meeting. But no, he knows negotiations between the families were clear; if they were going to get married back in Japan, they would have some sort of celebration in the States. And so here they are. A marriage that will signify the start of a new, international Shimada-gumi, and the start of the rest of Hanzo's life. He swallows.

\---

Mozart plays loudly as he decends yet more polished marble steps into the grand ballroom. From this vantage point he can see nearly everything in the room, the glittering chandeliers hanging like sparkling spirits over three hundred sets of polished cutlery on thirty bedecked tables. People swarming, split mainly between the open bar which he would most certainly need to visit soon and the glossy wooden dancefloor. He hastens forward, eager not to be noticed and have to start the many greetings and dry conversations he would inevitably have tonight. And of course he would formally be introduced to his. Wife.

Hanzo isn't a fool despite the insistence of Genji teasing and he knows his duty comes first. He knows how important this is and recognises that his interests don't necessarily have a huge say in the matter. He just wishes he was a little bit attracted to girls, just a little. Just enough to be content with being bound to that person for the rest of his life, that's all he's asking. Maybe, he'll surprise himself! Maybe this woman who he meets will awaken something in him. He whispers a prayer looking upwards,

"Please let this awaken something in me," his shoes losing their makeshift grip again, sending him plummeting down the rest of the staircase.

As he falls Hanzo manages a thought. 

"Oh God, I'm going to die from wearing stupid shoes and it'll be embarassing as hell and there are a lot of people who will see, I need to stop this" and with the agileness that only someone raised from birth to be a ninja assassin can have, he manages to angle himself forward and covers his head. He shuts his eyes and lets himself slide, feeling the jolt of each step as they briefly pass under him on his indoor ski slope. Until eventually the jolts stop and he realises he is sliding across the floor, straight into- 

_Whump._

Hanzo realises dazedly, that he is not on the floor but dangling in the grip of two arms. Very warm, strong arms he notes.

"Well howdy." a deep voice rumbles, presumably the owner of these very nice arms. Hanzo opens his eyes to try to identify the owner. He swallows, his mouth going dry. They look very nice too.


	2. Ouchie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I knew before I started it had been awhile since I've tried to write but this is h a r d and I am u n h a p p y w i t h m y e f f o r t s.

When Hanzo was a child he never thought he was going to ever get married because he did not like girls. When he was about sixteen, despite his and his parents' utmost best attempts at repression, he realised that he liked boys and for a fleeting few years he did his best to be ok with it. 

"Wait, for real?" Genji says, his eyes widening as he leans against the doorframe of Hanzo's room "I always just thought you stayed single because... I don't know, you weren't interested in that kinda stuff?". Hanzo cringes into his palms.

"Trust me, I wish that were true," he groans, braving himself to make eyecontact with his brother. Genji saunters over to Hanzo's bed.

"Don't be such a downer," he laughs, slapping him roughly on the back and sitting down next to him "I'm sure there's someone out there somewhere for you, someone who also has a stick shoved way up his ass."

"Shut up, this is a serious thing" Hanzo says, keeping his brows pulled tightly down.

"And I'm sure you'll whisper that to eachother when you're in bed-" Genji quips before he is unceremoniously shoved onto the floor "owwwww - I'm joking!" he laughs, now splayed on the floor. "I'm happy for you though, that you told me," he says, staring at the ceiling, "wait-" he sits up "are you seeing someone right now?". Hanzo feels himself rear in some strange indignation.

"Of course not! You know how small Hanamura is, especially as a _Shimada_ \- just imagine how the Clan would react."

"Come on! That is such a flimsy excuse - I've dated heaps of people and they never catch on!"

"Genji, I could list off the top of my head at least ten people that you have been spotted with by the clan." Hanzo states dryly.

"And I could name at least thirty who I've been with! Those are good odds!" he beams. "Look, just let me _try_ to set you up with someone - I know a spot where nobody ever goes and you could, I don't know - have a stern conversation, make eye contact or whatever you call a good time." Hanzo sighs, exasperated by the energy he knew he should have expected from Genji.

"No." He wants to elaborate, to say that it would be futile, that even if he did meet someone and they hit it off, then what? There is no way the clan would allow them to be together, and presuming he could allow himself to care for somebody, he wouldn't be able to put them in that sort of risk. He is too tired to try to even begin to convey the beginning of feelings. He certainly doesn't see Genji smile to himself because if he did, he would know he was planning something and Hanzo would stop him.

\---

Hanzo doesn't drive, where he can't get on foot he is chauffeured, and so he never has had the displeasure of hitting an animal with a car. Still, despite this staring up at the man who has caught him on his ungraceful decent he perfectly understands what is is like to be a deer caught in the headlights.

"Woah there, you doin' ok? You're lookin' like - like a horse who cut the ketamine." he muses, a southern twang cutting through his words. Hanzo racks his brain, he is sure he knows how to speak, even if he's not quite sure what the man is saying. The man in question has a face you might expect to see in a brochure for some sort of outdoorsy activity - like kayaking or hiking, a rugged sort of handsomeness framed by a scruffy chestnut beard. The beard creeps into equally striking chestnut hair and Hanzo can't help wonder because he knows that chestnuts are coarse, rough and bristly but he can't help think that his hair might be soft.

"Uhhh... you there, Mister Shimada?" Hanzo feels himself being righted onto his feet and tries for something, he just needs to start talking.

"You - how do? Ah - you, of course you know me we are at," he takes a large step backwards to put some space between them and gestures at the room slightly wildly, "this is uhm, my 'event' so I suppose you must know - you must know my uhm, well I will be sure to ask her when I get the - oh I wonder where she is, maybe she's-"

"Well my name's Joel," this man, Joel interjects, shaking Hanzo's hand, oh lord his hand is so warm and Hanzo knows his own must be sweaty, "Well, Joel Morricone but you can just call me Joel." He flashes Hanzo a warm smile, which is met with a terrified expression as Hanzo's heart threatens to beat loud enough for the whole hall to hear. "Shit, bowing I'm sorry" Joel stutters looking chargrin at Hanzo's rattled face, and bows deeply.

"No, no I - I'm just not feeling all too well I should go and maybe have a drink to settle my- I think my brother is waiting for me at the bar" Hanzo feels even more horrified at making this man feel sorry after potentially saving his life. Joel's expression settles into an unreadable frown, which Hanzo might place as concern.

"You sure you don't wanna sit down? You seem a little... shaken... and ya did just fall down the stairs," he regards Hanzo with the air of somebody trying not to upset someone "I could getcha that drink myself" he adds with a wink. Hanzo can feel his brain threaten to stop.

"No I'm fine, I promise and I really should go check if he is-" Hanzo gestures towards the bar, and finds his legs obeying him as starts to walk towards the bar, finding comfort that he can hide in the crowd of people there. God, he needs to get a grip of himself, he can't go losing his head over literally anybody he sees. Especially strangers he meets at an event which is to celebrate his impending marriage. Even if they are the most attractive person he has met in his life. And even if said strangers have shown the most concern anybody has in months. He shakes his head, slapping his cheeks, he does not have the time for this.

Jesse stands grinning as he watches a flustered Hanzo awkwardly escape into the crowd of people. He activates the communicator concealed in his jacket pocket.

"Agent McCree reporting," he murmers, his eyes flicking from side to side to be sure he's not being watched "I have made contact with Hanzo Shimada as Morricone," he wants to laugh at how simple its been, "so far so good, he seems a lil' bit outta sorts but nothing that should interfere with the operation. Over."  
Jesse wasn't sure exactly what he expected Hanzo Shimada, yakuza heir and deadly assassin to be like but it certainly wasn't like this. From descriptions of what he'd done he at least expected him to be sterner, with the air of a killer about him - the man he'd met seemed like he was, well maybe not helpless but certainly... something about him struggling? This is going to be a piece of cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooh! Ketamine research just for you. As is the plan, this is all I can write in a sitting so that's that.

**Author's Note:**

> I have so much more respect for fic writers this takes FOREVER! But I'm tired and so I'm gonna sleep and y'all can get a description next chapter.


End file.
